Recover
by squeakyfingers
Summary: "And if I recover, will you be my comfort?" GCR. Catherine has a chance encounter while in D.C.


Title: Recover  
Fandom: CSI  
Pairing: Grissom/Catherine  
Summary: "And if I recover, will you be my comfort?" GCR.  
Disclaimer: Not my players, just my playground.  
Notes: I have no idea where this came from. A few days ago I got the sudden urge to re-watch some of the early episodes (I am familiar up to about season 7, I think) and was nostalgic. God, it's been, a decade? I am vaguely familiar with the major arches and plots points from later seasons, so this hopefully won't be too AU. Any further fiction (if there is any) will most likely stick to pre-season 7, but having read some newer fiction, I thought I would try my hand at a post-csi Catherine short. If there are still any of the original graveshifters around, this one's for you guys. Enjoy.

"_And if I recover, will you be my comfort?  
Or it can be over,  
Or we can just leave it here." –Recover, CHVRCHES_

It was autumn in D.C. when she saw him. Lindsey had taken the train in from new York for the weekend and Catherine thought they'd enjoy the last vestiges of warm weather before the east coast was wrapped in snow and bleak cold of winter. They had finished their lunches and were sitting outside at a small café on Dupont Circle.

And he was there.

Grissom.

His famous salt and pepper hair was undeniable. His nose buried in what appeared to be a crossword puzzle. Typical. She hadn't seen him in two years, but in that time it appeared, he hadn't changed at all.

"Mom, look!" Lindsey gave her a tap on the shoulder and pointed across the street.

He looked up. Catherine hurriedly glanced away.

How long had it been since they'd last spoken? Last year? Did he know she'd left Vegas? Were they still speaking then? Catherine couldn't recall. When Sara had returned to the lab, they'd fallen out of touch. He was married; she was busy adjusting to being the grave shift supervisor and then dealing with the fall-out with Ray and her demotion.

If she were being truly honest with herself, she had been avoiding him. It had been hard enough seeing Sara every day. But Grissom? Hearing the details of their marriage from him would have been much for her heart to bear. Even if she had been the one to push him into her arms.

He never did realize all those years when she was pushing him to get his nose out of the microscope, what she really truly wanted was for him to look up and see her.

"Catherine?" She jerked out of her reverie to see him standing in front of her, crossword tucked under his arm.

"Gil."

"What are you two doing in D.C.? Seeing the sights?" He tugged anxiously at his sunglasses.

"No. I...uh…I live here," she stammered. "Special Agent Catherine Willows, FBI, at your service."

"I hadn't heard, Congratulations."

"Thanks…it was time. I assumed Sara had told you."

Catherine brought her gaze to meet his and waved for him to sit down. At first glance he seemed to be the same old Grissom. Quiet, reserved. Those sunglasses of his masking pools of deep blue.

"So what brings you to D.C? I thought you were still teaching in Pa…"

"Sara and I, we're not together anymore," He stopped her sentence short, removing his sunglasses, casting his eyes downward. "It just, it didn't work out. I couldn't give her what she wanted."

"I'm sorry, Gris." She raised her hand to his chin gingerly, tilting his head so his eyes met hers. "For everything."

He grasped her hand in his. "I thought she was what I wanted. I know better now. We were, too much alike…and there was someone, someone I never really got over."

"Yea."

Her hand went slack. He rose, picking up his crossword, pushing in his chair. Catherine watched as he rooted through his pockets momentarily, before finally brandishing an ink pen. He scribbled on the side of one of the pages of his puzzle. Catherine winced as he ripped the page and handed it to her.

"I've been teaching classes at George Washington University. That's my office number and email. Cell is the same."

Catherine's hands trembled, the paper shaking like the crisp autumn foliage.

"Thanks."

Grissom tucked his puzzle back under his arm and stuck his hands in his pockets. Catherine cast her gaze back to paper in her hands, blinking back a tear. His scrawled handwriting seemed to scream back at her.

– _Grissom 555-0152 ext. 354_

And there, in the boxes, where his well thought out answers should have been, she found the one she had been looking for all these years. Snagging a tissue from her bag, she dabbed the threatening waterfall.

"What's wrong mom?" she heard Lindsey ask, concern in her voice.

There it was. Right there on the page. "_I miss you. I love you. Please call."_

She looked up toward the sky. And then he was gone.

- Fin.


End file.
